


What Marco didn't know and Mario didn't expect about the FCB

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Bar, Bavarian Inn, Everyone Is Gay, Hotel, Italy, M/M, Training, Trentino, Trento, club, footy ficathlon, promptfill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>THIS FIC IS NOT GOING TO BE FINISHED.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>When Mario transfers to Bayern he discovers something unforseen. Something which Marco might not have expected.</p><p>This is a fill for the <a href="http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html">footy ficathlon</a> (<a href="http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html?thread=460952#t460952">this prompt</a>)<br/>The prompt states the following:<br/><em>these are lines that I've wanted to include in a fic for a while but I always forgot or didn't have the opportunity so maybe someone on here can use it:</em><br/><em>"To be honest, I don't think Mario is totally inexperienced in, uh, gay stuff.", Mats says and shrugs.</em><br/><em>Marco frowns. "What do you mean?"</em><br/><em>"Well, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't forget that I did play at Bayern for a while."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Munich

“Come on boys, move, or I'll make you listen to the Schalke anthem for the rest of the evening!” Marco and Mats heard Jürgen Klopp calling. They had just lost against Hamburg, and Jürgen was not in the best mood, even though both Marco and Mats agreed that they'd choose a grim Jürgen over a grim Jogi any time. They had been chatting during the entire length of the roadwork, and henceforth let themselves drift farther away from the rest of the players. Both of them sped up a bit, and Mats picked up the conversational thread.

“What were you saying about Mario?” he asked. “Well, you know that we are in, well, I guess –” “– that you two are in a relationship. Yes, I'm aware of that. Just like everyone else. It's hard to miss.” Mats deadpanned, interrupting Marco. “What about that?” “Well, we never really – you know – did it, made love, inflamed each others loins, –” “– Stop. I get the picture. And too much of a mental image.” Mats interrupted Marco once more (by now it was a theme, really). “Yeah, anyway, Mario told me he wants to try it out, but I'm not sure. He seems so, I don't know... innocent?”

“To be honest, I don't think Mario is totally inexperienced in, uh, gay stuff.”, Mats says and shrugs. Marco frowns. “What do you mean?” “Well, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't forget that I _did_ play at Bayern for a while.” At first Marco looked confused, and Mats could literally watch the mental cogs snap into place as Marco realized what he meant. “Are you saying that –” “– jep. Believe me, there is no way around it. So be careful. After a few months at Bayern Mario may just be more experienced than you think.”

**At Bayern, a little more than a year earlier, just after Mario's arrival at the team.**

Mario had just arrived at the Bayern Munich training ground for the first time. He had just finished moving, and the stress was still stuck in his bones somehow. At the same time, he was so excited it was tangible. Since he was little he had always wanted to play at Bayern. Now finally, he could. It hadn't been easy to say goodbye to his former teammates, Marco in particular, but he wouldn't give away a dream come true like this.

He opened the door to the locker room, noticing that that most of his new teammates were already there. He knew all of them by name, and, thanks to international duty, some of them personally, too. So when he walked into the locker room he already saw some familiar faces. Bastian was just pulling his jersey over his head and Thomas was tying his shoes. On the other side of the room he saw Manuel fiddling with his gloves. Pep and Philipp entered the room and saw Mario standing there. “Ah, good morning Mario! Nice to see you!” Philipp greeted the striker, alerting the others of his presence.

Most of the players were now facing Mario and extending welcomes to him. “So you also finally found your way to Bayern, didn't you?” Thomas asked whilst patting Mario's shoulder. “The golden boy of German football at Germany's best club. That's a good combination in my eyes.” he remarked. Mario greeted everyone back, from Neuer to Green, from Ribéry to Schweinsteiger. Finally he greeted his new trainer. “Nice to see you. Your jersey and shorts are already waiting for you.” Pep said and nodded towards a corner of the locker room. In that corner hung a red jersey with the Bayern Munich insignia on the front and “Götze” printed on the back atop the number nineteen.

Mario put on his training gear and headed towards the training ground together with his teammates. Everything, from the grass on the pitch to the crossbars had a special air that captivated Mario. He realized were he was, and what he was doing right now. He was in Munich, training with the best of the best. He knew he wasn't going to disappoint. It simply was not an option. He'd give his best and show them that, indeed, he was worth the money Bayern had mustered to get him.  
And so he did. Mario quickly noticed that Pep's style of training was quite different from the one Jürgen Klopp had used. Not better or worse as far as Mario could tell, but different. He got along with the rest of the team really well. He'd been friends with the international players playing alongside him for Germany anyway, but, luckily, managed to get along well with others during training as well. He finished training with a smile on his face and praise by his teammates. He'd gone above and beyond, and it had shown. 

“By the way, were having a little welcome party at the inn tonight. I can count on you joining us, right?” Philipp remarked when they were back in the locker room. “I'd love to come! When should I be there?” Mario asked. “Sometime around six should work.” Philipp answered. “But don't overdo it boys, I want you back here tomorrow morning at eight!” Pep, who had just over heard their conversation while walking by, interjected through the locker room door which someone had left open. “Don't worry Pep, I'm going with them!” Philipp shouts back. Pep stopped in his tracks and poked his head through the door. “Must I remind you of the time when you were said the same thing, got drunk, and almost missed a league game because you woke up in an ICE to Cologne?” “That –” Pep continued, taking no notice of Philipp's failed effort of defending himself. “Or the time we had to pick you up from the A&E because you thought it is a good idea too brawl a horde of Stuttgart fans just because they made a stupid joke? You may be a good captain when you're sober, but as soon as you get your hand on any kind of alcohol you turn into a living nightmare.” Pep finished and walked off, leaving the locker room silent. That is, until Thomas decided to break the ice. “So, who's up for a proper stein of Paulaner?” he asked. Clearly, everyone was, and signified it with a wave of agreeing utterances. Everyone except Philipp, that is. He was strangely quiet, and, judging by the amount of fiddling he was doing, obviously was having some sort of problem with tying his shoes. 

Mario left the training grounds and headed home, stopping only to pick up some things from the grocery store. He had gotten himself a flat just outside the Olympiapark, right in the heart of Munich. He loved the pulse of the ever-awake city. He showered and got dressed in preparation for the night at the inn. He thought about taking the car, but if he decided against it. He was invited to drink beer in a Bavarian inn, after all. It had started to pour by now, so Mario put on his raincoat and pulled his headphones over his head. He left the front door, the hood of his coat pulled down low in an effort to conceal his identity from the public. He arrived at the inn after a short ride on Munich's underground. He entered through the ornate wood door into the inn. The walls were lined with decorum that ranged from candelabras (albeit without burning candles, fire regulations are harsh in Germany) to a pair of deer antlers. In one corner, next to the counter on the far side of the inn stood a brewing kettle. Along with the massive wooden tables it created an air of homeliness and age-old tradition. The dry scent of beer kegs and the mouth-watering smell emanating from the kitchen filling the air made Mario feel warm as soon as the door closed behind him, despite him walking through the freezing rain mere moments ago.

At one of the wooden tables sat Philipp, Manuel, Dante, Jérôme and Holger. Seeing as how Mario was a bit early, the others would probably be around shortly. Mario greeted the others and sat down at the table. They started chatting about training, about Mario, about football in general, about anything, really, and one by one, the others joined them. Everyone but Thomas had shown up by half past six, causing Philipp to ask if any one of them had heard from him. Nobody had, but just as they told Philipp that, the front door opened and Thomas walked in, dressed in a red and white shirt and Lederhosen. “Sorry I'm late, I had to pick up this –” he pointed at his apparel “– up from the dry cleaner and got stuck in traffic.” With that, he sat down. “Are you serious?” asked Manuel. “Why?” Thomas asked, clearly a bit perplexed. “Lederhosen? Really? Don't you think that's a little on the nose?” Manuel replied. “Come on, we're in a Bavarian inn in Munich. This –” Thomas pointed at himself once again “– is not on the nose. It's tradition. At least I'm the only one who dressed properly for the occasion.” Thomas finished with a wink towards Manuel and a grin on his face. The inn's patron walks up to the table. “So, boys, what's it gonna be?” “I'd say will go for keg service. Six kegs for starters sound good to all of you?” Philipp asked. Nodding could be seen along the table, and so Philipp finalized the order. Minutes later, the patron, together with multiple waiters and waitresses. They were not only carrying the six kegs of beer, as well as thirty empty steins.

They opened the kegs and let everyone tap some fresh beer. When all the steins were filled, Philipp raised his and said “To the newbies and to a new season. O'zapft is!” The others joined in and clinked steins with each other. Mario took his first sip of beer and let the cool, tart liquid run down his throat. He was never a fan of wheat beer, but didn't mind one from time to time. He was sitting between Manuel and Julian, opposite to Thomas. He joined into the beer-addled conversation, enjoying the chat with his new teammates. He had felt a bit nervous when he had first set foot on the training ground that morning, worried about how the team would welcome him. With every minute that he spent with the people around him, that nervousness drained out of him. He was increasingly sure that he had found more than a team. He was sure that he a found a new family.

As the evening progressed, the average blood alcohol level of the Bayern Munich squad increased steadily. It might only be beer they were drinking, but they soon found that for some of them, that was more than enough. A certain captain was singing “Stern des Südens” arm in arm with a certain Mr. Badstuber, and a certain Mr. Green was showing quite an appetite for German ales. Mario had kept his alcohol level in check so far. He had had quite a bit so far, but not so much that he would've been seriously drunk. Thomas, still sitting opposite to him, leaned over the table and motioned Mario to do the same. “Step outside with me for a second, I have to talk to you.” Thomas whispered into Mario's ear. Mario figured he might as well, a breath of air would be good, especially because the air in the inn had become increasingly stuffy and beer-laiden. So he got up, put on his jacket and followed Thomas outside, into the cold Munich night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Don't forget the [footy ficathlon](http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html) going on over at LiveJournal right now! Feel free to check it out, read some fills, write your own prompt or even fill one :D  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> [the ache in your legs: a footy ficathon](http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html)  
> 


	2. Una notte selvaggia in Trento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario's suspicion is raised after he hears something he probably isn't supposed to. That, combined with a drunk Thomas, makes him to learn a secret a secret about the FC he'd never expected to be true.
> 
> PS: The title is Italian for "A wild night in Trento". Many thanks to the amazing [Thunderfrost2012](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderFrost2012/pseuds/ThunderFrost2012) for translating it. If you want to read some really amazing and extremely funny stories about the German NT, check out her stuff!

The first thing Mario noticed when he stepped outside was that it had stopped raining. The sky was clear and stars were shining. Mario followed Thomas one of the vacant tables in the outside area of the inn, where both of them sat down. “Basically all I wanted to tell you is that Pep asked me to keep an eye on you. Not because he's worried that you'll cause trouble, which, I'm sure, you weren't going to do anyway –” Thomas raised his eyebrows, denoting the irony “– but to make sure you feel well here. So, if you ever have a question about how stuff works around here, ask me.” Thomas paused, making sure Mario could still follow. “If Pep wanted feedback from a player, why wouldn't he just ask Philipp?” Mario asked. “I'm not sure either. Maybe it's because Philipp has other things to do or he's already keeping an eye on one of the other newbies. All I can say is that Pep probably has a reason for asking me. By the way, has Pep told you of the training camp in Trentino we are going too in two weeks?” Mario nodded in response, uttering a “Yes.” “Great. So, because of what I just told you we're probably going to be roommates. Is that okay with you?” “Of course, no problem. I'll try to behave.” Mario answered sarcastically. He had no problem whatsoever with Thomas. He might be a _little_ bit childish at times, but sharing a room with Thomas meant that he had a.) someone who he could enjoy Trentino's nightlife with, and b.) no one he could accidentally wake up when returning from said nightlife.

They rejoined the others inside the inn and celebrated the rest of the night. Sometime around half past elven, Mario called himself a cab and rode home. He had become quite tired by now. The beer had started to take its toll, and the fact that he was still a worn out from the training today hadn't made it better. As the taxi driver drove him through Munich he watched the streetlights zoom by like fleeting trails of light. Mario's eyelids grew heavier, and he would have almost fallen asleep had they not arrived at his apartment block at that moment. Mario payed the driver and dragged himself out of the car, through the highrise's main doors and into the elevator. On the way up he decided to head straight for bed. Pep had most certainly been serious about wanting to see them on the field at eight, and he didn't want to be late to or overly fatigued during his second training at his new club. 

When Mario finally set foot into his bedroom he took off everything but his boxers, piling his clothes on the floor with the promise to himself to clean put them away the next morning. Before he slipped into bed he retrieved his phone from his jeans and checked, out of habit, for new notifications before connecting it to the charger on his bedside table. He saw on message in particular to which he had to answer. A message from the one person he missed most right now. A message from Marco. It read “Hey there, Kleiner1. How was your first day on enemy territory? ;P” Mario screwed his plans of sleeping right away, and texted back while slipping into bed. “Not bad, so far. I got to meet some old NT friends again, and the others are really cool too. But I still miss you, Großer.2” Marco's answer followed suit. “I miss you too, Kleiner, and so do the others – kind regards from them, by the way. I want you back here.” “I know you do, and, were it only about you, I would've stayed, but this was my dream, since always.” Mario responded. “I know, and I'm happy for you. I have to sleep now, or I'll miss training tomorrow. So, good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite.” Marco texted back. “Me too. Good night.” With that, Mario placed his phone on the bedside table and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. He drifted off to sleep quickly, and found peace in a dreamless sleep.

Mario woke up the next morning, luckily, without a headache. He got out of bed, checking his phone again. It was 6:30, which meant that he had enough time to get ready. He hadn't received any more messages that night. He picked up the pile of clothes he had left there the night before and walked into the bathroom to a.) put the clothes into his laundry bin and b.) get ready. After a quick breakfast he left headed out. The next few mornings didn't look very different, either, save for the two matchdays. As the training camp moved closer, Mario found himself being more and more excited for it. When the day came, the team met at the Munich main station. There was a direct connection from there to Trentino which was definitely faster than flying from Munich to Rome and then from Rome to Trentino. They'd have their own coach, though. When the train arrived at the platform they got in, somewhat single-file. As soon they had entered the train Thomas lunged forward and saved himself one of the two window spots of an arrangement of four seats with a table. “This is not part of the training camp, Thomas. There is no need to run!” Pep called, clearly annoyed with Thomas acting like a child again. Mario couldn't help but giggle at the situation. He doubted that he'd ever live to see the day on which Thomas would act like an adult.

Mario sat down next to that table as well, on the seat opposite to Thomas. The rest of the coach filled up with their teammates along with the Bayern staff. Manuel and Philipp sat down in a regular two seat arrangement across the center aisle from Thomas and Mario. Mario wasn't sure if it was just him, but both of them seemed awfully chatty towards each other. They joked around more than he was used to see from both of them when they were on international duty together. By the time the train had started moving, Bastian and Arjen had sat down next to Thomas and Mario. The four-and-a-half hour train ride was eventless, the German Alps blending into the Dolomites as Mario and his teammates spent their time talking, preparing for the matches scheduled during the training camp. He wasn't sure, but he had the feeling that whenever he looked into Thomas' direction he met his gaze, followed by him looking away abruptly.

They arrived in Trento, the capital of the region of Trentino, early that afternoon. From the train station, situated on the bank of the Fiume Adige, they continued onwards to their hotel. Pep had given them the rest of the day off, so as they arrived at the hotel they each made their plans of what to do for the day. Mario carried his luggage to the shared room and opened the door. Thomas was already unpacking his stuff and putting it away into one of the two wardrobes. He looked up when he heard Mario entering the room. “Are you okay with me sleeping on this side of the bed?” he asked, nodding his head towards the side of the double bed closer the door. The room had a simple layout. A narrow corridor lead away from the door into the main part of the room, with the bathroom branching off it to the right. The bed was placed with its headboard against the right wall of the room, a wardrobe lining the walls on either side of it. A desk with a matching chair was placed along the wall adjacent to the corridor, opposite to the bed. 

“Sure.” Mario replied, dragging his suitcase along behind him to the far side of the room. He joined Thomas in unpacking. “Want to tag along tonight? We're planning to hit the clubs.” Thomas asked Mario while taking his jerseys from his suitcase and placing them inside the wardrobe. Mario immediately responded. “I'd love to, who else is joining in?” “I'm not sure, I know that Julian, Toni, Holger and Mitch wanted to come, but they might have invited others to tag along, too.” “That sounds good. When are we leaving?” “Don't ask me, but it'll probably still be a while 'till then. Just give me your number and I'll text you before we leave at the hotel.” And so Mario did. When he was finished unpacking, he decided to wander around the historical city center. He strolled across the Piazza Duomo, stopping to marvel at the Cattedrale di San Vigilio. He continued on down one of the narrow streets leading away from the square. He sat down in one of the small caffès lining the avenue. He ordered a glass of vino rosso and watched the people walk by. His phone gave off a subtle ring in his pocket, and he was about to wonder why Thomas was texting him this early – it had been hardly an hour since he had left the hotel – when he saw that it had been Marco who had sent him a message. 

“How's Italy?” the message read. “Great. Lovely mountains all around and the red wine is amazing ;) It'd taste even better if I could share it with you, though, Großer.” Mario answered. “I bet it does. I'd love to be with you too, Kleiner.”. They chatted on for the half an hour or so, until Marco had to leave for training. Mario checked the time and decided to go back to the hotel. His phone battery was about to give out anyway, and the sun had started to set. He payed his check and left the caffè.

When he entered the lobby, he headed straight for the elevators. He had almost reached his room when he stopped dead in his tracks. From the room two doors away from the one he shared with Thomas noises could be heard. This wouldn't have bothered him in slightest if a.) he hadn't known that the room belonged to Philipp and Manuel, and b.) the noises emanating through the shut wooden door would have not been so graphic. From all Mario could tell, there was a lot of moaning going on inside there. He to leave whoever was in that room doing whatever in peace. Perhaps he had just mixed up what room Manuel and Philipp were staying in. On the other hand, that just sounded a little too much like someone calling Manuel's name. Mario tried to shake off the mental image and walked the final steps up to his room. He turned the key, expecting to have to turn it several times to unlock the door, but found that the door had simply been pulled shut. He walked in and pulled the door shut behind him. 

Thomas was standing in the bathroom, checking himself out in the mirror and styling his hair. He had left the door to the bathroom open, so he heard Mario arriving at the room. After Mario had entered, he spun around and greeted Mario with a regular “Hi!”, making the younger blond jump and hit his head against the wall behind him. “Sorry! Sorry! Are you okay?” “Yeah, I'm fine. You startled me, that's all.” Mario said, rubbing his head. “I was about to text you, actually. We're leaving in half an hour.” Thomas said, having turned back to the mirror and applying some eau de toilette. “Great, I'll get ready. Any plan where exactly we're going?”. “Yeah, I asked the concierge. She told me about a club that's pretty cool.”

Mario opened his closet and asked himself what to wear. He really wanted to get changed before heading out for the night. Despite the A/C, the train had been warm, and he had sweated a good amount walking through the afternoon sun as well. On second thought, a shower might be a good idea, too. “Dresscode?” Mario asked Thomas as the elder one of the two finished his bathroom routine. “A little better than casual. I'm heading down to the lobby. Just join us when you're ready.” Thomas answered and left the hotel room. Mario picked out his outfit for the night and placed it on the bed before slipping into the bathroom. He got ready, restyling his hair after showering and getting dressed, followed by putting on some aftershave. When he was happy with his appearance he joined the others down in the lobby. 

The club was in walking distance of the hotel, just on the outskirts of what one would call the city center. It wasn't big, but obviously big enough to afford a bouncer. Luckily, the FC Bayern is famous enough, even outside of Germany, that it was not a problem for them to get in. Mario enjoyed the night out. He spent the evening dancing, chatting and generally having a good time. That night, he didn't think about football, or anything, really, he was just in a good mood and ready to party. Even though he tried not to drink too much, he ended up quite tipsy when he left the bar. The barkeeper did a good job of making his drinks quite stiff. When he left, he still possessed full motor control, but he was, in a way, more talkative than usually. He wasn't the only one leaving the club at the time. Julian, Mitch, and Thomas made their way back to the hotel as well. They arrived at the hotel minutes later, and Thomas and he walked into their room together. 

Both of them didn't really have the nerve to do anything but go to bed. When Thomas pulled off his shirt, Mario couldn't help but glance over to him. He had seen him naked on international duty before, but still, he couldn't help it. Thomas had a lean frame, with hinted abs and muscular arms. Mario could see his muscles move beneath his skin, stretch it ever so slightly as Thomas pulled the thin piece of fabric over his head. Before Thomas could notice Mario's gaze, Mario looked away and took of his own shirt and pants and slipped into bed, only in his boxers. Unbeknownst to Mario, Thomas followed his example and glanced at him, letting his gaze wander over Mario's stockier frame and toned torso. Thomas lay down next to him and switched off his bedside light. 

Both of them just lay there for a while, neither really trying nor being able to sleep. They were lying on opposite sides of the bed, yet Mario could still feel Thomas' warmth seeping through the blankets and between them. All of a sudden, Mario asked something. “Could it be that Philipp and Manuel are, you know, together?”. In retrospect, Mario wasn't sure it had been him or the alcohol talking at that point. Thomas, who was laying on his bed, turned his head to face Mario. “Yes, they are, why are you asking?” Thomas answered, smirking. “Well, I heard them having sex.” Mario said, being bolder than usual. “Don't worry about that. It's not really that uncommon around here.” Thomas said, making it clear that by ʻhereʼ he didn't mean the municipality of Trento, but rather the FC. “What do you mean?” Mario asked, a bit quizzical. “Well, the longer you are here, the more you get around.” Thomas said, making it sound as suggestive as possible. 

As Mario figured out what Thomas meant by that, he was dumbfounded. Had someone else told him that something like this was going on at Bayern, he would have called that person insane. But like this, he figured, it could make his time at the FC even more interesting. They both lay silent for a while, and as Thomas was about to turn his head back, Mario asked “Can you, you know, show me?”. Thomas' grin grew wider as he replied “Thought you'd never ask.”

They both pulled into a kiss. Mario relished the feeling of being that close to his teammate, their almost bare bodies embracing each other. It would be a long night for both of them, and for whatever poor souls happened to live in the rooms next to them, because it wouldn't be long 'till they did some moaning of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point there is no excuse for me being this late with the update. It's been almost two weeks, and I'm so sorry about that. I promise I'll try to quicker the next time. At some point I wasn't sure I could make this story as interesting as I wanted to, but right now, I'm back on track.
> 
>   **The Footnotes:**  
>  1: German equivalent of little guy.  
> 2: German equivalent of big guy.


End file.
